Spandex
by Ally612
Summary: The value of spandex to Sarah. Or rather, how she came to be the wife of the Goblin King. Prequel to 'The Queen's Labor', not necessary to read that first. You should read it after. RR, edited August 14, 2009.


Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth, nor do I profit in any monetary way from this.

A/N: Just a humorous ficlet that I thought you'd all enjoy. Read and review, if you please!

---

Sarah gazed at herself critically in the full length mirror. Pausing to reflect – no pun intended – she studied herself intently. It had seemed only yesterday was she trying on her first pair of overalls, then her first skirt, her prom dress, her graduation robes. She pulled her long dark hair away from her face, knotting it at the nape of her neck messily in order to study the dress she wore more fully.

It was a beautiful dress; she had to admit, though she wasn't enamored with the plunging neckline. But of course, it was chosen for, as so many things in her life seemed to be these days. She had never expected her career as an actress to take off, so she had quietly focused her efforts elsewhere. More specifically, in writing. Her imagination, so vivid in childhood, had never diminished as others had done. She had penned a series of children's books, fantastical, mythological, and very truthful. Since then, her life had been invaded by publicists, contracts, appearances, and book signings. Her life was not her own during the working hours of the day. But who was she to complain? She was twenty-seven years old, rich, aspiring, beautiful, how could she find fault in her lot in life?

"Oh, babycakes, it's wonderful," Her publicist, Natalie, cooed adoringly, making Sarah want to rip the dress of her body, "haven't I got great style?"

"Yes," the store owner encouraged, "this is a fabulous dress, you did very well, ma'am."

Sarah almost glared at the woman, but strived to maintain a pleasant façade.

"I think it's a little too low cut," Sarah started to say, "after all this is a premiere for a _children's_ book series turned movie."

"What a load of bologna," her publicist waved her hand, as if the matter was closed, "it's perfectly fine for there to be boobs at a premiere, even if it is one for children."

Sarah, distinctly uncomfortable, silenced her protests. It _was_ a pretty dress, after all. It was a silver silk dress with a sinfully plunging neckline, held up by a halter strap. She could already imagine the pictures that would appear in the tabloids, complimenting her style or browbeating it to death. Not to mention the amount of double-stick table she would have to bring in her purse…well, best not to think of it.

"Alright," she agreed reluctantly, handing the woman her credit card, "I'll take it."

"Excellent," the uppity women smiled, "follow me."

"I told you, babycakes," Natalie grinned, showing off a mouth full of capped and whitened teeth, "my style is unbeatable."

Grudgingly, Sarah agreed with a smile. Natalie threw her arm around her client, leading her out of the store and into a shining Mercedes. As they exited the store, Sarah glanced at her reflection.

She was dressed to the nines, as she had been ordered (by Natalie, who else?), in the latest fashions with three inch heels. She really missed sweatpants and sneakers, she thought longingly.

---

Sarah replayed the message on her machine three times before she sank to the couch in a stupor. She reached over and played it again. Unfortunately, as her machine was from somewhere beyond the Stone Age, she had to listen to all of her other messages first.

"_Hey Sarah, it's Toby. I was just calling to catch up, but since you never answer your phone now that you're famous, I got your machine. I'll try your cell. Miss you!"_

She smiled, recalling the last time she'd seen her younger brother. He was thirteen now, a rebellious teenager. She'd missed him dreadfully so she had flown down to see him two weeks ago. They had spent the entire weekend catching up, it had been heaven.

"_Sarah darling, it's your mother! I was calling to ask what color gown you'll be wearing to the premiere; I don't want to repeat last week where we actually _matched_, it was ghastly! Jeremy gives his love, as do I. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug!"_

Sarah giggled inwardly, the last time she'd seen her mother in public, they had been wearing painfully similar outfits. The press had had a field day, and Linda Williams had been furious.

"_Sarah, it's Ryan. I don't know how to say this, but…I think that we should see other people. It's not working out for me…I'm really sorry. I'll drop your stuff by later. Will you put mine in a box and leave it at that door? Thanks babe…erm…Sarah. I'm sorry."_

Fuming, she deleted the message with such force that the button jammed, incapable of springing up again.

"Shit," she wore angrily.

Just as she was ready to curl up on the couch with a pint of ice cream, her phone rang. She stared at it moodily until it went to the answering machine.

"_Babycakes, it's me! I was just calling to make sure that you brought Ryan to the premiere. The seating is by couples, so you have to bring a date! Tell that hunk of a man that I'll see him there!"_

"Why does God hate me?" She questioned futilely, making her way to her liquor cabinet.

---

It seemed as if a construction site had been moved inside her bedroom, merrily banging away, drilling into her walls. Groaning, she shielded her eyes from the light and buried her head in her pillows.

"Good morning, Sarah."

Surprised, she let out a shriek that made her head split and rolled off the bed, bring her duvet and sheets with her.

"What the hell," she started to sputter, "who the hell are you and why are you in my room?"

"Sarah, really,'' the figure moved into her sight, "that vulgarity is a touch uncalled for and very unladylike."

"Goblin King!"

Jareth half-smiled at her, looking down in a very imposing manner. He was wearing an outfit unlike anything she had seen on him. Black pants – more like spandex, she noted – black boots, white frilly shirt – hmm, she reflected, no chest hair, does he shave? – and a midnight blue vest.

"Yes, that is my title," he humored her with one of his grins, "though I prefer 'Jareth'."

She peered up at him blearily in silence for a moment.

"Why are _you_ here?"

"Dearest Sarah," he smiled thinly, "I am here because you called me."

"No, I didn't," she exclaimed, "why would I call you?"

Jareth merely pointed to the empty bottle of vodka in the next room, clearly visible from even her part of the room.

"Oh, God," she groaned, "I got smashed and I called up the Goblin King. Most people drunk dial an old flame and tearfully recount their undying love or just pass out in the middle of a one night stand. But no, I have to drink myself into a stupor and then call for the King of the Goblins to hang out with me!"

"Yes," he said, uncrossing his arms, offering her a hand, "that is the gist of the matter."

She ignored his hand, throwing herself back on the bed with a grunt, burying her head back in the pillow. Her words were muffled, but he heard them perfectly.

"I'm going to look up in five seconds, and you aren't going to be there."

She counted mentally and turned around, graced with his smirking face and his ever present spandex. At nine in the morning with a terrible hangover, it seemed as if all she could concentrate on was his spandex – pants, she told herself firmly, pants – and his predatory grin.

"Okay," she sat up, "so you're not going anywhere. I'm getting coffee, now."

She pushed herself out of bed, looking down at herself. Her nightgown was in disarray and she had to push it down. She paused, and then looked back down at herself in confusion.

"Nightgown?"

"I took the liberty," he interjected his eyes on her nightgown clad form as well, "of changing you out of your clothes and into something more comfortable after you passed out on your sitting area floor."

"Excuse me," she said dangerously, "you took the liberty?"

He looked amused and held up a gloved hand, a crystal dancing between his fingers and threw it in once in the air.

"Surely, you remember that I have magic, dear Sarah." He let the crystal drop and before it hit the floor, it faded into a burst of glitter which soon vanished. "Your chastity and modesty are intact, never fear." Her relief was palpable to him and he smiled with a leer. "Though I was tempted…"

"Pig," she muttered under her breath. "You couldn't have made it floor length and flannel, could you?"

"I prefer short and silken," he said truthfully, "it is far more appealing to the eyes."

---

Over her breakfast counter, she gratefully slurped her coffee, black and strong, the way she liked it. Her headache gradually receded when she swallowed two extra strength ibuprofen tablets.

He had followed to the kitchen, his eyes never leaving hers as she gathered her composure.

"So," she said conversationally, "how's it down in the Underground?"

"Prosperous," he said with a pointed grin, "my kingdom is flourishing, though the High Council has been demanding marriage for all unmarried monarchs."

"And are you unmarried," she questioned nonchalantly, watching her toaster carefully.

"Yes," he answered lowly, "and why do you ask, dear Sarah?"

She had to suppress goosebumps from rising on her neck. He said her name like a caress, he always had.

"No reason," she said in too high of a voice. He smirked inwardly. He still had it.

"Well, after you invited me to your premiere last night, I assumed that you would be interested in my marital status."

She nearly dropped her mug of coffee.

"I invited you?"

"Yes," he nodded, "you practically begged me to attend with you."

"I was probably drunk," she defended herself, "completely wasted," she tried to console her pride. "I don't beg for dates," she sneered at him, "never have, never will." He tutted at her pride, as constant as it had been so many years ago.

"Well," he sighed, "you called me for a purpose, and until it is fulfilled, I cannot leave. So, I am afraid to be the harbinger, but you _must_ attend this premiere with me if you harbor any desire to see me in the Underground once more."

Sarah glared at the empty bottle of vodka in her living room.

"I'm never drinking again," she vowed.

---

"Sarah," Natalie cried in delight, carefully embracing her client as photographers swooped in with flashing lights and barking orders to pose or look at them. Whispering in Sarah's ear, she asked her who her date was.

"Oh," Sarah smiled, "that's Jareth, he's an old-friend of sorts."

"He's a god," Natalie stared in delight, "where do you find these guys?"

Sarah smiled secretly.

"Oh, here and there…you know me."

"I'd like to know _him_," Natalie whispered, "preferably sexually. Are you up for a timeshare on that one, babycakes?"

Sarah linked arms with Jareth possessively, shaking her head at Natalie smugly.

When Sarah had found out that Jareth was literally bound to her request, she had been horrified. The premiere wasn't for another month and a half. Where was he to stay? What was she supposed to do with a magical king? He had gladly made himself comfortable in her apartment, claiming the spare room for himself. Soon Sarah had become accustomed to his presence, absentmindedly sharing the couch, the bathroom, her meals. They had engaged in a never ending spar of wits, always good-naturedly. She had barely noticed when a month and a half had passed. It felt _right_, living with him. She had been trying to hide her attraction to him halfway through his stay, doing a pretty good job, she thought. It didn't help that he practically always wore spandex pants. One night, during a particularly steamy scene in a movie, she had found her eyes drawn to the apex of his thighs in his, though he had not noticed, too engrossed in the idea of a television set. He was also incredibly sensitive to her feelings, she had discovered. When she had taken him out to dinner, and Ryan and his new girlfriend, Jennifer, were there, jealousy had been written all over her face. He had grasped her hand and pressed her to the wall outside, kissing her tenderly. It had done more than make her ex-boyfriend jealous, though.

There was no use hiding it, Sarah had fallen hard for the Goblin King. He had been what she was waiting for in life, she could tell. Her void of a life had become full of joy and meaning overnight.

"Come on," he said quietly, "let's get out of this crowd." His arm went around her waist as he guided her into the building. Sarah closed her eyes slowly, savoring the moment.

"Alright," she agreed, placing her hand over his gently. When he looked down at her in surprise, she blushed softly and looked away. He smiled widely.

---

"Well," she said softly, "thank you for being my date tonight. I had fun."

God, she moaned inwardly, wanting to kick herself. I sound like a teenager on their first date! How lame.

"It was enjoyable for me, as well Sarah. Your book must be wonderful; I hope I may read it someday."

"You must know," she implored him, "how you were my inspiration, well, not all of it, Hoggle was part of it, and so were the Fireys and the goblins, and of course the Labyrinth, so, you know…" She trailed off, feeling like an idiot.

It seemed he had understood though, as he nodded in recognition. She stepped forward, unsure of how to say goodbye. He moved forward next, bringing her into his arms tightly.

"Thank you for everything," he whispered into her ear, "I enjoyed staying with you."

"I enjoyed having you here," she whispered back, unwilling to let him go. He let her bury her head in the crook of his neck and smelled her hair. He was surprised when he heard a sniffle and felt tears drop onto his shoulder.

"Sarah," he asked in surprise, "are you crying?" She tried to stop as he pulled away, his hand on her shoulder, his concerned eyes on her face, but the tears continued to fall. She looked awful when she cried, she knew. Her eyes immediately became bloodshot and puffy, her face pink and hot with emotion. "Oh dearest Sarah, do not cry." She threw herself into his arms again.

"Don't go," she whispered, horrified at her neediness and inability to control her mouth, "please, don't leave me."

"Sarah," he stroked her hair, "I have to go…my subject, my kingdom…they need me." He was at a loss.

"But _I_ need you," she admitted, though the words were muffled, "God, why can't I stop talking?" She pulled away and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, it's like I can't control myself."

"No," he soothed, "it is alright." He tucked her hair behind her ear caringly. "Why should I stay, Sarah?"

"Because…because, I care about you!"

"I care for you too, Sarah. I always have."

His words prompted some courage within herself.

"You told me once," she began steadily, "that you wanted me to love you. What would happen if I did?"

"I would love you in return," he said meaningfully, as he gazed into her eyes, his own were over bright with understanding, "and make you my Queen."

She gave him a watery grin in return, her eyes overflowing with joy.

"Sounds like a plan," she said happily, before throwing herself into his arms again.

When their mouths met in a kiss, Sarah felt as if she could die of happiness. Whatever her life had been missing before was fulfilled by the Goblin King. Perhaps it always had been.

---

"Promise me something," she whispered later, days after their engagement had been announced.

"Anything," he swore, "anything for you, Sarah."

"I want you to wear pants like that until you die."

Who had ever said that spandex was out anyway? Sarah had a thing or two to tell them.

---

La fin.

Reviews are always nice.


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